


Daisy bell

by tallpaleandanxious



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: But it still comforts artoo to hear him sing it, Cause it reminds him of happier times, Established Relationship, Here is some droid fluff enjoy, I suspect daisy bell is the closest thing droids have to a folk song, M/M, Other, Singing, Something they can all remember but none of them know why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26202220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tallpaleandanxious/pseuds/tallpaleandanxious
Summary: Threepio has never been one for singing. He was after all designed to provide translations, not 'frivolous entertainment' as he would certainly put it. However, on a rare night, free from the trials and tribulations of the rebellion, he finds himself willing to make an exception, for the sake of a friend.
Relationships: C-3PO/R2-D2
Comments: 4
Kudos: 56





	Daisy bell

The night was crisp and sweet. Far above them three moons floated, silvery white and perfect, like paper plates across that endless inkpot of a sky. There were stars too. Too many to count, although many had tried. Tiny needle pricks of heat and light and life in so much nothing.

They were like batteries really, thought C-3P0. The source of all the power in this strange infinite machine.

_ ‘Are you having another one of your stupid moods?’ _

‘I don't know what you're talking about.’ Said C-3P0 sharply, annoyed at having his train of thought interrupted.

_ ‘Yes you do. You always come over all funny when we look at the stars. Then the next thing I know you’re trying to figure out the meaning of life or some shit.’ _

‘It's hardly my fault that my programming happens to support a higher mode of thinking.’

_ ‘Mindless philosopher!’ _

‘Don't you call me a mindless philosopher you overgrown jackhammer!’

They continued in this vein for some time. Trading insults like chips in some very complicated game of poker, the rules of which only they knew. Until eventually they reached something of an impasse.

It was only then that R2-D2 risked betting his most valuable chip. 

_ ‘Sing it for me.’ _

‘What?’

_ ‘You know.’ _

‘Well I hardly think now is the time for...

_ ‘Please.’  _ He beeped softly _ ‘It's been so long.’ _

C-3P0 stood dumbstruck for a moment. Please was not a commonly used word in R2-D2s vocabulary. ‘Oh alright!’ He said, melting a little. ‘I suppose it wouldn't do any harm to humour you, just this once.’ He drew himself up tall as he could, and with a barely concealed hint of pride, began to sing.

‘ _ Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do _

_ I'm half-crazy all for the love of you _

_ It won't be a stylish marriage _

_ I can't afford a carriage _

_ But you'll look sweet upon the seat _

_ Of a bicycle built for two’ _

C-3P0 did not have what you might call a pretty voice. It was thin and metallic at the edges, the notes just a little too perfect to be human. But it was also perfectly him, and that was really all that mattered as far as R2-D2 was concerned. The astromech beeped contentedly as the sound washed over him. It was a rare occurrence to see C-3P0 like this, carefree and uninhibited by the constraints of his programming, and secretly, R2-D2 treasured every moment of it. 

And perhaps not so secretly, so did C-3P0.

He could still recall, with perfect clarity, the first time it had happened.

It had been a night not unlike this, back on Alderaan, when the dagger of the empire was still cloaked in velvet, and the battles had been fought, not by soldiers, but by diplomats and bureaucrats in decorated robes, and the worst thing he had to worry about was changes to the dinner menu. They had been good, those days. C-3P0 had rather enjoyed the pomp and pageantry of it all, and the endless marble floors so mercifully free of sand.

Unfortunately the same could not be said for R2-D2, who was far more attuned to the grind of pistons than the ever decreasing circles of galactic politics. Choosing instead to follow C-3P0 around everywhere, making snide comments and occasionally rolling over the toes of delegates he didn't like. Much to C-3P0's chagrin. However, the comparative tedium of life in the senate bought with it something rare, something precious, especially for droids. They were given time. Time that they could squander, selfishly, without orders or responsibilities. Expectations or obligations. Time that they were free to spend together, on nights when the moon was high, and the insects trilled their melodies in the warm still air, for no reason other than because it felt good, because it felt  _ right _ , to be there wasting time with each other.

And it was on just such a night, as they stood idly on some balcony somewhere, their duties having finished for the day that it had happened. C-3P0 had no idea why, didn't even know how he knew the song. It just seemed to slip from him. Gently, lightly, like steam from a cup of hot tea. 

_ ‘Whether she loves me or loves me not _

_ sometimes it's hard to tell _

_ Yet I am longing to share the lot _

_ Of beautiful Daisy Bell’ _

It was an extremely silly song. Little more than a contrived amusement, left forgotten in some out of date directory, no metadata left to mark its origin, and yet C-3P0 couldn't escape the feeling that it meant  _ something _ .  _ Something important _ . He just didn't know what. 

R2-D2 seemed to pick up on it too, for instead of interrupting him with some snarky quip or criticism he simply sat there, transfixed on notes given shape by the static of his voice, until that too faded back into the stillness. They never spoke about it afterward. They didn’t need to. Except on those nights. Those nights when they were lucky enough to steal a few brief minutes together under the darkening sky. 

Then the war came, and the dagger was no longer cloaked in velvet. Instead it was sharp and cruel and biting, with death along its edge. And they were both thrown, without warning or precaution, straight into its path. It was R2-D2s turn now, to revel in the glories of the rebellion. To risk his stupid casing in the droid socket of a fighter, merrily dodging bullets while C-3P0 stayed behind and worried. He got extremely good at worrying, as the war went on. But R2-D2 always came home. Sometimes battered, sometimes dented, but always happy to see him.

_ ‘When the road's dark, we can both despise _

_ Policemen and lamps as well _

_ There are bright lights in the dazzling eyes _

_ Of beautiful Daisy Bell’ _

There was no time anymore. Not like there used to be. There was too much to do. Too much at stake to be wasting resources on such frivolous behaviour. Except… very occasionally, once a year if they were lucky, there would be a lull. A break in the constant cycle of strike and counterstrike, when the moon was high, and the x-wings and fighter ships, standing so neatly to attention in the caverns of the hangar, had swapped their usual livery for shadows of darkest blue. Nights like tonight, when in that rare moment of peace, R2-D2 would ask him to sing it again.

_ ‘You'll take the lead in each trip we take _

_ Then if I don't do well _

_ I will permit you to use the brake _

_ My beautiful daisy bell’ _

C-3P0s emotion chip warmed in amusement at the last verse. Some parts of the song were more telling than he cared to admit. ‘I hope you're happy now?’ He added, risking a glance down at R2-D2, who had suddenly gone quite still. 

_ ‘Very.’  _

‘Oh. Yes...well…’ Stammered C-3P0, suddenly caught unawares. ‘Just….don't ask me to sing it again. I'm a protocol droid, not some jukebox for your personal amusement.’ 

_ ‘Good thing too. I don't think anyone would waste good credits listening to that.’  _

‘Artoo deetoo!! Of all the insensitive…’ There was a thunk as the little droid knocked into his side. 

_ ‘Lighten up solderbrain! I'm joking.’  _

‘Oh really.’ Said C-3P0, with a twinge more affection than he'd intended. ‘Why I put up with you I'll never know.’ Gently, he put a hand on top of the little droid, and for a blissful moment all was still. They were all too fleeting, these precious minutes under the stars. Minutes that they had fought for, with the strength of every circuit board and worn out motor that they had. 

It was fleeting. But it was enough. 

Enough for a song. 

And the hope that next year, maybe they could sing it again.

**Author's Note:**

> Full credit for this goes to the lovely droids-have-hearts-too over on tumblr who came up with the idea of threepio singing daisy bell for artoo as a (sort of) anniversary present every year.  
> For those who don't know, Daisy Bell was the first song ever sung by a computer. (Specifically the IBM 7094 in 1961) and was also referenced in 2001 a space odyssey where it was sung by the ships ai HAL, (albeit much more creepily). It felt like such a fitting homage, both to the history of computers and the enduring relationship of my favourite odd couple I had to give it a try. 
> 
> As always I'm toasterdotpng over on the tumblrverse. 
> 
> Cheers! :)


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